


Til There Was You

by EmerySaks7



Category: The Music Man
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-17
Updated: 2012-09-17
Packaged: 2017-11-14 11:30:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/514768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmerySaks7/pseuds/EmerySaks7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set a few months after his transformation, Harold Hill and Marian Paroo spend some time together learning about one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Summer Persuasions

_Disclaimer: The Music Man and its associated character do not belong to me. I'm merely using them for my own pleasure. No profit is being made from this story_.

Although Harold had never actually heard of a person's ears bleeding from a horrible sound, he was almost certain he was getting ready to experience it. Quite simply, the sounds coming from the young man next to him were beyond hideous. He was at a loss for words to describe it. And for Harold Hill, silver-tongued talker, that was saying a lot.

"Davy." He tried to get the boy's attention.

A little louder. "Davy."

Still no response and still the blatting of what used to be one of Harold's favorite instruments.

"Davy!"

Finally hearing the Professor over his painful etude, Davy Brown, one of Harold's most eager eight-year-old students, moved the silver-plated trumpet away from his lips and looked at his teacher earnestly.

"What do you think Professor?" His eyes shone with anticipation.

Harold faltered for a second, the young lad's eagerness curbing the truthful, yet probably hurtful criticism Harold had been about to deliver. Pausing for a moment, Harold decided on a vague, yet still truthful evaluation of what he had just heard.

"Davy, my boy, I can honestly say I haven't ever heard anything quite like that."

The boy beamed. "Gee thanks, Professor!"

"In fact, Harold continued, smiling, "I think we should call it a day and let you meet the other fellows at the fishing hole. How's that sound to you?"

"Really, Professor?"

"Really, Davy."

The young boy needed no more encouragement. Clutching his trumpet in one hand and music in the other, he ran out the door, the thought of the cool, wet pond swimming through his head. For Harold, the reprieve was a much-needed one. He had spent the better part of the morning working with his brass players, quickly realizing that River City's boys' band was going to take a lot more work than he had anticipated. Fortunately, he himself was a trumpet player and knew a little about music. Reading music was a bit harder, as he only knew how to decipher treble, but through the local piano player /librarian, he was getting lessons in all things music, and occasionally, lessons in other areas of life, as well.

A smile always came to his face, as it always did, when he considered the turn of events his life had taken those few months ago and the entrance of someone new in his life. If he wasn't careful, his mind would wander to that "someone new," and he'd never get anything accomplished. He wondered if the same was true of her … if her mind ever did any wandering. There was that one time … at the mercantile … with the wet dye and the fabric. He still laughed when he thought of it.

But enough of that. Right now, he needed to get out of the gymnasium and in to the cool, summer breeze that had settled into River City during the past few days. And he knew just the person to recruit to share the pleasant summer day with him.

XXX

Marian Paroo loved books. She simply adored them, which was a good thing considering she was the town's librarian. But right now, literature, even her much-esteemed Balzac, was the farthest thing from her mind. It was a beautiful day outside. The cool, summer breeze had woken her this morning, gliding in through her windows and filling her senses with the sweet smell of lilacs. But, she was stuck inside a building. A building with nobody in it except herself. Even her most faithful of patrons had realized the potential of the day and chosen to spend their time out in the fresh, summer air rather than with the well-worn pages of an old favorite.

Sighing at the futility of it all, she loaded her arms with books and began the arduous task of re-shelving them. The poetry books weren't difficult, and neither were the fiction, but the reference books … oh the reference books. Usually, their re-shelving involved Marian carting a ladder over to the section and then making several trips up and down to get the task done. Today was no different. Howard Carter's newest book on his discovery of the young Egyptian pharaoh was as thick as cold molasses and garnered a resting place at the far, top corner of the .900s. Marian sighed. Someday, she was going to have to work on a better way to restructure the library … one that wouldn't require her to practically drag the ladder throughout the building.

She glanced at the volume on the top of her pile, where it sat staring sullenly back at her. She pursed her lips. She really ought to re-shelve it. After all, she was the librarian. She couldn't just leave books lying on the cart. What example would that set for her patrons, especially the younger ones? On the other hand, it was a Saturday. Not a soul was in the library. No one would ever know. With a mischievous smile, she placed the books back on the cart, trading them for an armful of poetry, before making her way to the easier-to-shelve section.

Lost in the world of John Donne, Marian didn't hear the library door quietly creak open, nor did she notice the tall figure slip in and make his way opposite the shelf where she stood. She had just removed a copy of _Canterbury Tales_ to inspect its worn spine when a large, tanned hand darted from the empty spot and closed around her wrist. She jumped, startled, and gave a small shriek, dropping Chaucer's famous work to the floor.

"Why does the Mayor have you working on a beautiful day like this?" Harold asked, a sheepish grin creeping across his face as Marian frowned at him.

"The Mayor?" She bent down and fumbled with the book, perplexed at his question and still trying to get her heart rate back to a normal pace.

"If not the Mayor, the school board then?"

"Harold, what are you talking about?" Marian asked. "You know quite well that neither the Mayor nor the school board has any control over the library."

Harold smiled broadly. "Indeed, I do. But," he continued, "I thought perhaps something had changed. How else can I account for your being cooped up with all these books on such a glorious afternoon?"

Marian flushed in embarrassment. This topic had been a frequent visitor in their recent conversations. Harold knew how important the library was to Marian, but he was also of the opinion that she worked entirely too hard, not leaving enough time for pleasure. True, she had taken more time for herself recently, learned to slow down and enjoy life – Harold had seen to that. Still, there was work to be done. Today was proof enough of that.

"I was just re-shelving some books. I'll have you know I was thinking about closing the library early," she protested, as Harold made his way to where she stood.

"Yes, but thinking and actually doing are two different things, my dear," he teased.

"You're incorrigible," she sighed in frustration.

"I am."

She opened her mouth and shut it quickly, uncertain how to respond to the frank admission. Harold laughed and moved closer. "It's one of the many reasons you love me," he teased.

Marian pulled away and swatted his arm. "Is it now?" she countered, as she walked to her desk. Harold followed after her, catching her by the waist. He turned her towards him.

"It is," he affirmed as he looked into her eyes, pulling her to him.

Marian smiled, her eyes twinkling. "It is," she agreed and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I knew it!"

"Are you satisfied now?" Marian laughed.

"With only that mere token of affection?" Harold asked in mock dismay. "Certainly not!" He tipped her chin up toward him, his eyes resting on her face and leaned in closer. Marian ducked out of the would-be embrace.

"Harold, honestly," she scolded. "What if someone were to walk in? Hmm? How would that look, the two of us," she trailed off, waving her hand.

Harold had to concede the argument, albeit reluctantly. "You are, of course, correct." He moved to stand beside her, gently taking her hand in his.

"Miss Paroo, would you do me the honor of spending the afternoon with me?"

Marian smiled. "I suppose I could finish here and then spend a little while doing … whatever it is you have planned. But," she raised a hand, "not too long. I promised Mother I would help with the confections for the bake sale."


	2. Off to the Candy Kitchen

What Harold 'had planned' turned out to be an afternoon visit to the Candy Kitchen, which coincidentally coincided with a large portion of the town's collective plan.

"Well, it is a warm summer day," Marian pointed out when Harold voiced a good-natured grumble about the apparent lack of available seating.

The cool summer breeze which greeted Marian earlier in the morning had transformed into a mild summer day. As a result, many of River City's denizens had taken up residence at the Candy Kitchen and were indulging in decadent sundaes, malts and Ed's personal specialty, the ever-popular strawberry phosphate.

Harold and Marian had managed to secure a table through sheer luck, timing their entrance just as Marcellus Washburn and Ethel Toffelmier were leaving. The two couples exchanged pleasantries, idly commenting on the weather for a few moments and then they were gone, leaving Marian at the table while Harold retrieved their drinks.

As he placed their order, Marian observed Harold at the soda counter, smiling as various townspeople approached the former fly-by-night salesman to say hello. It warmed her heart to see how readily her fellow River City-ziens had accepted Harold Hill after everything had come to light. For all his talk and charm, Marian knew Harold still had the occasional doubt concerning his acceptance there. But as the days passed, she could see those fears being slowly put to rest, and she was glad. Now that he had chosen to make River City his home, she wanted him to feel that he was part of their community.

A part of her felt slightly guilty at that thought, because deep down inside she knew the desire for him to put down roots was motivated by her own unspoken fear that one day he might finally tire of this small-town life and simply leave. It was, she knew, an ungrounded fear, yet nevertheless, it existed.

Shaking her head to clear the unpleasant thought, Marian refocused her attention to the counter and blushed when she realized Harold was watching her with an amused grin. His expression informed her that he had caught her mind wandering, so she merely shook her head and gave him a small smile. He winked back, causing an older couple sitting next to Marian to tut in soft disapproval at the brazen display. Marian had the good grace to blush before silently mouthing for Harold to behave himself. His only response to the mild rebuke was an even wider grin and then he was making his way to their table, a strawberry phosphate in one hand and a root beer in the other.

"Here you are, one strawberry phosphate," he said with flourish as he set the fizzy drink down in front of Marian. He sat down and pulled his root beer closer, taking a sip.

"Delicious. I've wanted one of these all morning," he confessed.

"So have I," she agreed taking a genteel sip from the slender, white straw.

Harold grinned and lifted his eyebrows in mock concern. "You'd best be careful, Madam Librarian. As often as you indulge in strawberry phosphates, your hair might just turn that delightful shade."

"Harold! What a horrible thing to say," she laughed and lightly swatted his arm.

He merely shrugged and took another drink. "It does run in the family," he winked.

"Yes, it does," she admitted. "Mama could hardly believe it when I showed up with blonde curls."

Harold chuckled. "I imagine it was a surprise, but what a lovely one! One can only wonder if your own children will follow the same pattern." He delivered the veiled comment with an innocent smile, but his eyes twinkled mischievously and let her know he knew exactly what he was implying.

Marian could only stare at him for a moment as a slight blush colored her cheeks unsure of how to respond to the brazen compliment. Harold was always the consummate gentleman, but every now and then, he took gleeful delight in catching her off guard. This definitely counted as one of those times.

She finally coughed genteelly in an effort to break the moment. "Yes, well … ah … what did you say you had planned for us this afternoon?" she asked, sipping her phosphate. Harold understood what she was doing and chose not to pursue the matter for now. If he had his way, there'd be plenty of opportunity in the future to talk about things such as that. Besides, he didn't want to make his little librarian uncomfortable. He often had to remind himself that although she could return just as much as he could dish out, she was still quite sheltered in many things and didn't always know how to respond to his teasing comments. He took pity on her and decided to shift the conversation to a more comfortable topic.

"I didn't, actually," he grinned and lightened the mood considerably. "But, I thought we'd rent a buggy and go for a drive."

Marian's eyes widened in startled disbelief. In the few months Harold had been in River City, she'd never once seen him in a buggy or even a motor car. He'd always seemed to prefer to leisurely stroll to wherever it was he needed to be. "Harold, do you even know how to drive a buggy?"

"I'm sure it can't be that hard. What's there to do?" He shrugged nonchalantly. "You hitch up the horses, grab the reins and go."

Marian looked at him in alarm. "Harold! You can't take a buggy out without knowing how to handle it."

"Madam Librarian, for one who is so book-savvy, you certainly can have the wool pulled over your eyes," he laughed covering her hand with his. "I know how to drive a buggy. I wasn't always a con man, you know." He winked at her.

Not amused, she withdrew her hand from beneath his. "That's not funny, Harold. How am I to know you can operate a buggy? I hardly know anything about your past."

Harold winced inwardly. Although it was rare, the topic had surfaced before between them. Even though Harold loved Marian deeply, he wasn't quite ready to divulge all of his past. He knew she loved him, but still ... there were things he wasn't proud of ... even ashamed of. He didn't know if Marian would be so enamored with him if she were to learn all his secrets.

"Marian, I-," he stopped, unsure of what to say. As Marian watched the emotions play across his face, the desire for truth and fear warring within his eyes, she took pity on him, realizing when he was ready to tell her, he would.

"It's all right, Harold." She took his hand. "I shouldn't have said that. We all have things we want to keep private." She gave him a small smile. "Now, how about that buggy ride?"


	3. Motorcar Revelations

Having decided upon the small lake that set outside River City, Harold thought it best to invite Mrs. Paroo and Winthrop along the for the afternoon jaunt. As the two made their way from the Candy Kitchen back to the Paroo home, Harold explained his reasoning to Marian. Although she had no objection to sharing the summer day with her family, she was a bit surprised that Harold had suggested it. When she mentioned this to him, he merely shrugged and gave a small laugh.

"Well, it's one thing for a fella and his girl to sneak off to the footbridge every now and then, but it's quite another to head out of town entirely."

A scandalized look briefly crossed Marian's visage at the implication, but a moment later she was smiling and nodded her agreement at sharing the afternoon with her family. Having been raised a proper young woman, she felt vaguely embarrassed to realize that it was rather delightful to contemplate an un-chaperoned visit to the lake with Harold.

She felt the heat darken her cheeks and could only hope that Harold didn't notice. Fortunately, his attention was drawn to a fancy motor car that was rambling by at the moment. Marian was somewhat surprised when she went to take a step forward only to find herself unceremoniously yanked back when Harold didn't step with her.

She glanced over in surprise. "Harold?"

He instantly took a step forward to meet her, a contrite expression on his face. "How thoughtless of me, "he apologized. "I'm afraid I was momentarily distracted."

She laughed. "I can see that!"

He offered her a rueful smile before glancing once more at the retreating automobile. Marian's gaze followed his and then returned to study the longing she could see in his eyes. "You seem awfully fascinated by it."

"I am," he confirmed. A wistful sigh escaped him. Marian couldn't help but be intrigued. Very rarely did she see Harold pine for anything.

Curious and knowing very little about the new automobiles, Marian decided to pursue it further. "Do you know anything about it?"

When Harold's eyes lit up, Marian knew she had made the correct choice.

"It's a Cross Country Rambler, 38 horsepower, 4-cylinder model – a Thomas B. Jeffery machine. It'll take you from here to Chicago faster than you could believe possible!"

Marian seemed duly impressed. "Isn't that just amazing!"

"It is," he agreed. Eventually, the motorcar turned a corner and Harold turned to his sweetheart. "I apologize. It's just that I haven't seen one of those in quite some time."

"I've never seen one here before." The obvious question was left unspoken. Where had Harold seen one?

While not entirely new to their acquaintance, folks in River City had no real need for such a vehicle and as such, opportunities to see one driving down a street were rare. He turned away, not wanting Marian to see the hesitation in his eyes. He was grateful that she had chosen not to directly ask him. He didn't think he could lie to Marian. Oh, he could spin the grandest of tales and his silver tongue had talked him out of trouble time and time again. But not with Marian. If there was one thing Harold prized above all else, it was the beautiful woman on his arm, and he had vowed early on in their relationship to never do anything that might jeopardize this most precious gift that had been given to him.

With that thought in mind, Harold realized he owed her some sort of explanation. He had recently come to the realization that sooner or later, he was going to have to start sharing his past with Marian – both good and bad. After the earlier incident in the Candy Kitchen, he figured now was as good a time as any to start.

With a sigh, he brought up a hand to cover the one that was currently linked through his arm. When he spoke, it was with a quiet resignation.

"Springfield," he confessed slowly.

Marian appeared confused. "Springfield?"

"Where I first saw the Rambler." He took a breath and plunged ahead. "Before coming to Iowa, I spent quite a good deal of time in Illinois. Springfield, in particular. The Rambler was a popular favorite, and I even got to drive a few."

Marian was surprised. "You can drive a car?"

Harold had to chuckle at the look she gave him. "Indeed, I can, Madam Librarian. Perhaps one day, I'll get the chance to show you."

The idea held some appeal to Marian, but her mind had gone back to what Harold had said just before that. Springfield was larger than River City, and the instant thought that there must have been more than just one music teacher in a town that size popped unbidden into her mind. While somewhat painful to contemplate, Marian tried to maintain a level head about it. After all, she knew she wasn't the first woman to have caught Harold's eye, although she sincerely believed that she would be the last. Still, the lingering doubts that had plagued her ever since Harold had announced he was staying in River City started to resurface.

Harold silently watched the various emotions play across Marian's visage. He knew what she was thinking. It was the primary reason he had hesitated in even mentioning Springfield to her. Marian was a smart woman and could easily put two and two together. It stood to reason that she would instantly grasp his less-than-chivalrous actions in that town. But ever patient, he waited, allowing her the opportunity to process what he had just told her. After what seemed an eternity to him, she finally brought her eyes to his in a frank gaze.

"Springfield is rather large, isn't it?"

"It is," he confirmed.

"I don't suppose you have any plans of visiting it again?" The implication of her question was not lost on him.

Harold reached down and captured her hand within his and brought it to his lips. His gaze never leaving hers, he placed the gentlest of kisses on her knuckles and shook his head. "Miss Marian, if I ever visit Springfield again, it will be in the company of the loveliest librarian I know. I wouldn't dream of ever visiting that city again without her by my side."

From the radiant smile that erupted across Marian's countenance, Harold knew he had given the correct response.


	4. A Picnic Basket and a Forward Kiss

Just as Harold had predicted, Mrs. Paroo and Winthrop were delighted to accept his invitation for an afternoon jaunt. The barely imperceptible nod of gratitude Mrs. Paroo gave Harold wasn't lost on Marian, and she smiled realizing that Harold had added another favorable mark next to his name. Not that he needed any more, she wryly reflected. As far as her mother was concerned, Harold Hill was doing right by her. But still, Marian was pleased to realize that although she might overlook a small detail from time to time, Harold was employing extra care to observe that her reputation came to no harm.

Whilst Mrs. Paroo took a few moments to pack a basket with fruits and sandwiches – which she had insisted was quite necessary for their trip – Marian studied Harold from the front steps as he and Winthrop chewed on blades of grass on the front lawn and engaged in a serious debate regarding the merits of minnows versus worms as fishing lure. Marian couldn't help but laugh as she listened to Winthrop extol the virtues of a wriggling silver minnow. He had blossomed under Harold's tutelage, and all traces of the animosity he'd briefly harbored against the older man had vanished.

Even more endearing than her brother's lengthy dissertation was Harold's solemn expression as he nodded in agreement and voiced his fervent belief that worms were a far less superior means of bait. As absurd as the conversation was, his natural sincerity shone through, and Marian was pleased to note Harold was a natural with children. The observation wasn't the least bit surprising to Marian. As her mother had once said, Harold had the gift of the blarney, and it seemed as if children were naturally drawn to adults who would listen to and converse with them. What was surprising was the warm feeling that spread through her as she pondered how he would interact with children of his own. His earlier comment at the Candy Kitchen came rushing back to her, and she found herself abruptly blushing at the sudden awareness that she would very much like to find out the answer to that particular question.

Glancing back at Harold and her brother, she observed a satisfied smile spread across Winthrop's face as Harold had obviously agreed with whatever the young boy had been saying, and then her little brother was off, darting around the house, having suddenly remembered the need for his fishing pole. Feeling her gaze upon him, Harold made his way to the steps and sat down beside her.

"Well, I daresay that isn't a conversation you have every day, Professor," she teased.

Harold grinned ruefully and rubbed a hand across his chin. "No, I can't say that it is. But if it encourages Winthrop to talk, I don't mind a bit."

Marian favored him with a tender smile, her emotions rising at his simple statement. Without conscious thought, she reached over and laced her arm through his. Harold appeared a little surprised at the somewhat forward gesture, but happily acquiesced to the physical contact with his sweetheart. Bringing his hand to rest upon hers, they sat in contented silence for several minutes until they heard the knob of the front door rattle. They quickly moved apart, and a moment later, Mrs. Paroo came through carrying a large picnic basket which Harold instantly appropriated from her.

"Let me take that from you, Mrs. Paroo," he offered gallantly. "There's no need for you to carry such a heavy load."

"Why thank you, Professor Hill. That's most kind of you." She looked around for Winthrop. "Now, where is your brother," she asked Marian in motherly exasperation.

"He went to retrieve his fishing pole, Mama. I'll go get him," Marian offered, but Mrs. Paroo dismissed her with a wave of her hand. "No, no. I'll get him. You two put the basket in the buggy," she instructed and disappeared back into the house.

Harold looked at Marian expectantly. "Well, Miss Marian, shall we?"

Upon her simple nod, Harold offered her his arm and Marian took it, gazing at him with an enigmatic smile, which gave him pause.

"What is it, Marian," he asked a little confused.

In reply, she merely stepped closer to him and raised a hand to cup his cheek. Harold was startled by this action, not because of the gesture's brazen nature, but because Marian had initiated it. In the past, he had always been the one to instigate their affectionate exchanges. But feeling her warm palm against his skin, he quickly lost all interest in anything other than her touch. Truth be told, he found the situation quite intoxicating. A moment later, when Marian brought her soft lips to his for a brief, but heartfelt kiss, Harold was enthralled. When the demure librarian broke away a few seconds later, it was Harold who, in a rare moment, was left speechless as she descended the steps and made her way to the waiting buggy.

He stared after his lady fair, not quite sure what had just happened. As the sound of her faint laughter reached his ears, he had the sneaking suspicion that he hadn't merely gotten his foot caught in the door. He had been completely captivated by a modern-day Venus. A wide grin split his lips as the realization that this didn't bother him in the least flitted through his mind, and bounding down the stairs, he made his way to where Marian stood waiting.


	5. Reflections and Realizations

The buggy ride was every bit as fun as Harold had promised, and his driving skills weren't too poor, either, Marian had to admit. There had been one minor incident, but after profuse apologies from a sheepish Harold and an embarrassed Marian, they had been assured that the flowerbed could be easily repaired and Mrs. Gingold's cat would recover quite nicely from his current state of shock. Upon leaving the cat and flowerbed, Winthrop had promptly announced he wanted to go on buggy rides with Harold every Saturday. This announcement had earned him a scandalized look from Marian, a disapproving glance from his mother and a chuckle from Harold who assured the boy he would see what he could do. The promise of future shenanigans seemed to pacify Winthrop, and he spent the remainder of the drive happily chatting to his mother about everything they passed.

Marian couldn't help but smile as her brother's eager conversation floated to the front of the buggy. His transformation never failed to bring happiness to her heart, and once again, she felt enormous gratitude to Harold for the changes he had wrought within her family. Seeing that he had his attention fixed on the road, she surreptitiously scooted closer and allowed her knee to casually nudge his. Harold acknowledged the contact with a sharp glance of surprise; however, upon seeing her secretive smile and realizing the suggestive action was indeed intentional, he beamed widely and nonchalantly dropped his hand to brush away an imaginary speck of dirt on his trousers. As he did this, he allowed his fingers to accidentally brush against Marian's knee and was rewarded by a slight start from her. His low chuckle as he watched her cheeks instantly crimson caused her eyes to sparkle, and when she gazed at him, there was a hint of jesting defiance in her eyes. Never one to resist a challenge, Harold grinned at her and dipped his head as if to acknowledge their newfound game. The remainder of the journey was spent in clandestine contact as the two exchanged seemingly-innocuous nudges over the bumps and rocks along the road. Mrs. Paroo, ever aware of the undercurrents in the front of the buggy, watched the two with a knowing-smile, but chose to remain silent and allow the sweethearts their moment of innocent flirtation.

When the lake finally appeared over the slope of a hill, Winthrop immediately ceased his conversation and eagerly bounded from the back of the slow-moving buggy. Mrs. Paroo futilely called after him, but the boy was already off and running toward the shore as fast as he could. Harold secured the buggy where the horses could lazily chew the fresh grass, and Mrs. Paroo, smiling apologetically at the couple, immediately exited the buggy before Harold could even offer to help her. They watched, in shared amusement, as she darted off after Winthrop who was now wandering, knee deep, in the muddy bank. Her family's sudden departure left Harold and Marian with an unexpected moment of relative privacy, and Harold grinned knowingly at the calculated move as he descended from the carriage; nonetheless, he appreciated Mrs. Paroo's unspoken and rather gracious gesture. Marian, who was still seated, merely rolled her eyes as she regarded her mother trying to corral her little brother. A moment later, she heard Harold politely clear his throat and turned to see his proffered hand.

"May I assist you out of the buggy, Madam Librarian?" A playful note underscored his gallant offer, and Marian grinned wryly.

"I'd be delighted, Professor Hill," she replied. Merriment danced in her eyes, and Harold couldn't help but be charmed. Impulsively, he leaned in past her outstretched palm and instead fitted both hands snugly around her waist. Her astonishment was clearly evident, but before she could voice her surprise, Harold had lifted Marian from the seat. Her hands instantly gripped his shoulders for support, and when she looked at him, she found his gaze trained on her in a riveting stare. Feeling the heat from his palms drifting through the fabric of her gown, she abruptly became aware of Harold's strong fingers slowly curling around her waist. The intimate caress startled her; Marian's breath caught in her throat when Harold settled her on the ground before him. Turning away for a moment, she used the opportunity to slow her breathing and collect her thoughts.

Harold, for his part, was completely captivated by the feel of Marian's warmth beneath his fingers. He had merely meant to offer her his hand, but when she had teasingly replied to his gesture, he had been seized by the sudden urge to sweep her into his arms. When a gasp of amazement slipped from her lips, his hands had impulsively tightened around her waist. It took a moment before the ramifications of his actions registered, but when they did, he quickly released her from his grasp.

"Marian?" he softly inquired as he took a step back allowing her the opportunity to muster her emotions.

"You caught me unawares, that's all," was her soft, but sure, reply. He felt relief wash over him when she finally looked at him. A hint of passion still lurked behind her eyes, but he saw no trace of remorse or reprobation. His fears allayed, he offered her his hand once again. She eyed it in mock wariness for a brief moment before clasping her palm within his. Grinning, Harold retrieved a large blanket from beneath the seat and tucked it under his arm, leading Marian to the opposite bank where a large elm tree splayed out across the water.

After spreading out the checkered blanket below several dropping branches, Harold situated himself against the trunk of the elm tree and stretched his long frame out along the ground. Although the thought of removing his shoes crossed his mind, he decided it best to leave them on for the time being. Marian, for her part, chose to sit alongside Harold, but purposely maintained a slight distance from her beau. Ever aware of society's unspoken conventions, the two observed a respectable breadth, but it wasn't long before Marian felt Harold's hand gently creep across her palm, his fingers wrapping tenderly around her own. She smiled at his silent display of affection and gazed out across the field, contemplating the water that lapped softly on the shore.

The cool breeze blowing in from the lake was a welcome addition to their blanket under the old elm. It had been many years since anyone had brought Marian to this spot, and she was touched that Harold had remembered her mentioning that it held special meaning to her. When she was younger, her parents often brought her there on warm summer days. With a picnic basket and a jar of lemonade, they'd watch as their daughter ran along the water's edge, chasing butterflies and trying, unsuccessfully, to catch the shimmering, silver minnows that darted between the rocks hidden beneath the water's surface. The memories, although happy ones, still brought a small pang to Marian's heart. She was saddened that Winthrop never had the opportunity to spend times like that with their father.

Harold, who had been unobtrusively observing her silent reflections, watched as Marian's smile melted into quiet contemplation and then a moment later as a melancholy shadow passed across her features. Deducing where her thoughts had wandered, he leaned forward and delicately slipped his arm around her waist, gently drawing her close. Marian was startled by the unexpected gesture and immediately peered around expecting to see her mother watching them with a frown. But Mrs. Paroo's attention was directed elsewhere, and Marian sighed with relief that she wouldn't be subjected to a lecture on appropriate displays of public affection. As she smiled privately at the thought of averting a scolding (at her age!), she allowed herself to slowly relax into the soothing warmth of Harold's arms and settled into his embrace, letting her head come to rest lightly against his shoulder. They were both silent as Harold allowed Marian time with her memories. But when another wistful sigh escaped her, he leaned down and brushed his lips across her furrowed brow.

"You can't change the past, you know," he chastised, letting the gentle note in his tone take away the sting of the mild rebuke.

She nodded softly. "I know."

"You're a wonderful sister. You encourage him, and more importantly, you're there to listen."

"Up until recently, there wasn't much to listen to." She turned and smiled shyly at him. "I have a certain someone to thank for that." Marian was delighted to see the beginnings of a dull blush creep up the sides of Harold's face as she said this.

"Yes, well …" he cleared his throat and averted his eyes from her gaze. "I wouldn't say that was entirely of my doing."

"Why Professor Hill, you're blushing!" she exclaimed. Shifting in his arms, she brought her hand to rest against his chest as amazement flashed in her eyes at this unexpected but charming discovery.

"I am not blushing," Harold protested, even as he felt his cheeks flush.

"Yes. You most certainly are," she assured him. "Your cheeks are scarlet!"

"Madame Librarian, I do not blush."

"All evidence to the contrary," Marian teased and she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. Harold momentarily stilled in response to her affectionate gesture and then grinned widely, as all traces of his embarrassment fled.

"Why, Miss Marian! If I had known embarrassment and protests were all it took to coerce a kiss from you, I would have indulged in both a long time ago!" His eyes twinkled with mischief as he said this, even as his arms imperceptibly tightened around her.

Still often surprised by Harold's statements, it was Marian's turn to blush at such a bold suggestion; however, Harold, never one to let an opportunity escape, leaned forward and deposited several innocent kisses against her warm cheek. But, as it often did between them, the atmosphere became charged when Harold's playful affections brought him dangerously close to her blushing smile. What started out as a flirtatious moment transformed into something considerably more heated as his lips captured hers in a gentle, yet possessive, kiss. Harold experienced a subtle thrill when he realized the apprehension that had been a constant presence in their previous embraces was conspicuously absent. In the past, Marian had been somewhat reticent in his arms, but she seemed to be experiencing none of her previous nervousness now. This realization sent Harold's heart racing, and it took every ounce of control he possessed to release his lovely librarian before things became too intense.

With great reluctance, he extracted himself from their embrace only to find his heart was still pounding. He needed to collect himself and bring his racing thoughts under control. With a deep breath, he forced himself to look away for a moment. He licked his suddenly-dry lips and rubbed a palm against his brow, unnerved by this unfamiliar moment of unexpected trepidation. They had come to a new plateau in their relationship. Something had changed. More precisely, Marian had changed. The shy and often-reticent librarian had always expressed reservations during their more heated moments, but today as he lost himself in her eyes, he sensed none of that. His heart almost skipped a beat at the sudden realization. The confidence she displayed in every aspect of her life had been noticeably absent from their relationship. But now, that poise and self-assurance gleamed in her eyes. Harold swallowed. For a man who was used to leading his partner through the steps, her newfound footing was causing him a mild moment of apprehension.

Fortunately, it was only a momentary aberration. Harold quickly gave himself a mental shake at the ludicrous fear and firmly reminded his inner con-man that it was Marian who sat before him. It was she whose unselfish love and faith in him had saved him from the lonely existence of a life spent catching the midnight train after leaving heartache in his wake. It was Marian who, with a torn page from the Indiana Educational Journal, had offered him the opportunity to love and be loved in return.

It was foolishness to give credence to even one iota of the doubt that tried to surface. After all, her vivacity, spirit and wit had all been characteristics which had initially drawn him to her. To see them manifest themselves in this aspect of their relationship was something he should welcome, and upon further reflection, he realized he did welcome it. How dull and unfulfilling would his life be if Marian were to follow his every whim? Her tenacity and tendency to lovingly challenge him were facets that made her so very attractive to him. It wasn't simply her outer beauty that drew him to her (though, she was gorgeous, he reflected with delight). It was Marian's intelligence and compassion that made him desire her beyond a superficial level.

Marian, who had been quietly observing Harold once he turned away from her after ending their breathless kiss, wondered what silent musings were passing through his troubled mind. Her own thoughts were considerably jumbled, but she had become used to this familiar effect of being in Harold's arms; however, very rarely did he display anything less than full control of a situation, so she was somewhat surprised to hear a deep sigh escape his lips and even more astounded when he drew a hand across his brow in what she perceived to be confusion. When he drew back to face her, she was shocked to discern a trace of apprehension in his gaze. But as she watched, his consternation slowly transformed into a look of pleased acceptance, and suddenly, she realized what had occurred.

At the start of their fledgling relationship, Marian almost always demurred to Harold when they found themselves in a romantic situation. Although she was a grown woman, Marian knew she lacked the education most women her age had already acquired when it came to love. When Harold began to court her, she was delighted by his amorous attentions, but quite illiterate as to what her response should be in many circumstances; however, as their relationship had progressed, she slowly came to understand that although her passions and desires must be tempered with restraint, those same feelings were not licentious. Rather, they were a natural facet of the burgeoning love that was slowly maturing between them. This realization had filled her with a profound sense of relief, and she resolved that although exercising restraint was necessary, she would endeavor to articulate her love for Harold through less-vocal means. Comprehension dawned within her as she recognized that today, she had done just that. Harold had obviously noticed, too. The realization of his awareness elicited a wave of womanly satisfaction from her, and she beamed at him, unable to disguise her happiness.

Turning back to Marian, Harold found her gazing at him with bright eyes and something he couldn't quite identify; however, he was moved by the candor he saw there, so he willed himself to return Marian's honest gaze and allow her to see the same trust and love reflected in his eyes that he had so often witnessed in hers. The happiness radiating from her caused his heart to start beating faster again and realizing the potential dangers of such a situation, he chose to lighten the moment and flashed her his trademark grin before putting a little distance between them.

"Miss Marian, I do believe you're plying your feminine charm," he teased, hoping to elicit a charming blush from her. She didn't disappoint him.

"Harold!" she scolded as she swatted his arm. "What a horrible thing to say." But the laughter in her eyes belied the scandalized tenor of her words.

Harold smirked. "And here I thought I was paying you a compliment!"

Marian shook her head in exasperated amusement. "Honestly, Harold Hill."

"Honestly, Marian Paroo," he echoed and smiled tenderly at her. Once again, his hand trailed over to where hers lay, recapturing it.

They sat there in contented silence for quite some time, each lost in their own wonderings, but eventually, the faint traces of conversation from Mrs. Paroo and Winthrop invaded their private musings, and the pair separated slightly. When Winthrop came bounding over the hill with Mrs. Paroo trailing behind him, they found Harold and Marian waiting on them with bright smiles – picnic basket unpacked and glasses of lemonade poured.


	6. Undisguised Longings

After enjoying a leisurely lunch, the Paroo family and Harold spent the remainder of the afternoon walking together along the lake's edge, watching Winthrop chase after frogs and playfully splashing one another when the water lapped at the shore – although this was primarily done by Harold, whose victim tended to be a certain librarian. This was met with soft chuckles from Mrs. Paroo, who watched the proceedings with the occasional rolling of her eyes and a knowing smile. Their conversation and laughter lasted well into the evening, and dusk was approaching when Harold, Marian and her family inevitably packed up their belongings and began the journey back home. By the time they reached River City, nighttime had fully settled upon the small town.

Harold had generously offered to take Mrs. Paroo and Winthrop back to West Elm before depositing the buggy at Squire's Livery, but Mrs. Paroo had politely declined. While Marian privately questioned the reasoning behind her mother's refusal, Harold chose to accept her decision with a gracious smile, having realized the elder woman's incredible generosity earlier in the day. He was well aware that most mothers would not have allowed their daughter such a large block of un-chaperoned time in the company of her suitor. He was truly grateful for the private opportunities he was allowed with his librarian, and the magnitude of the trust Mrs. Paroo was silently placing in him wasn't lost on the Professor.

When they arrived at the livery, the Paroo family remained outside while Harold went in to settle the bill with Marcellus Washburn. Harold routinely glanced through the open door at Marian as Marcellus checked the rig to ensure everything was in order. The private smile Marian kept sending his way when their eyes met and her subsequent blushing caused his heart to skip several beats, and he was sure that he must look like a mooning fool. His suspicion was confirmed when he turned to face Marcellus and saw the younger man's face split into a wide smile.

"You must really have it bad, Greg!" he chuckled. "I've never seen you swoon over a gal like this before."

Harold frowned and raised his hand to shush his former shill. "Keep your voice down, Marce. I don't want Marian to hear talk like that."

Comprehension lit Marcellus's features and he nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry, Greg. I didn't mean it the way it came out."

Harold shook his head, effectively dismissing his former partner's apology. "No harm, done, Marce, and thanks again for arranging this for me. I don't think I've ever seen Winthrop so excited. It was worth every penny to see the kid so happy."

Marcellus slyly nudged his friend in the ribs. "Only Winthrop?"

Harold feigned an innocence that looked oddly out of place on him. "I don't know what you're talking about, Marce."

"Sure you don't, Greg," Marcellus agreed with a grin.

XXX

The walk from the livery to the Paroo home wasn't far, but almost as soon as they set out on foot, Winthrop began to lag behind, exhausted from the day's activities. Without conscious thought, Harold leaned down and scooped the young boy into his arms. As she watched her younger brother settle comfortably against Harold's shoulder and immediately fall asleep, Marian had to turn away lest Harold see the tears welling in her eyes. The love and affection Harold possessed for Winthrop was clearly evident, and Marian felt her heart constrict with intense emotion at the sight. Although she hoped they would be brothers one day, Marian knew Winthrop worshipped Harold as the father he no longer had; Harold, whether conscious of it or not, had taken a fatherly role in Winthrop's life – fishing trips, playing catch, teaching him the things a young man ought to learn and imparting little bits of wisdom here and there.

In light of Winthrop's sleep, conversation was subdued as they traveled toward West Elm and when they reached the front gate, Mrs. Paroo motioned for Harold to bring Winthrop inside rather than disturb his slumber. Harold was surprised by this, but obediently followed Marian and her mother into the parlor. Although he was a frequent visitor to the home, very rarely did his stays ever extend past dark. While Mrs. Paroo was an excellent hostess, and Marian had regained respectability in the eyes of the ladies of River City, Harold felt it best not to tempt the gossip mill with any unnecessary fodder.

As they entered the house and proceeded up the stairs leading to Mrs. Paroo and Winthrop's rooms, Harold caught a glimpse of Marian's bedroom through the slightly ajar door that lay just to the left. He could make out a large vanity mirror against the far wall, and he was suddenly reminded of the evening of the Ice Cream Sociable when he had beheld Marian's silhouetted form through the large bay window. A contented smile slowly spread across his features as he realized how far they had come since that night. Marian, who had chosen that moment to glance behind, gave him a puzzled look and started to speak, but Harold merely shook his head and lifted a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture as he nodded at Winthrop's sleeping form. Marian's raised eyebrow and amused stare silently communicated her knowledge of his use of her brother as a convenient excuse to not answer her. He grinned and winked, caught but completely unrepentant. The saucy look she threw his way was not lost on Harold, and he knew he'd hear about it later from his lovely librarian; however, he wasn't concerned about the future at this particular moment. The present was affording him quite a pleasant view as Marian turned back around and ascended the stairs in front of him. Gentleman or not, Harold didn't believe any man in his position would be able to resist the lovely sight he was currently beholding. A wide grin split his handsome face, but when he glanced up and saw Mrs. Paroo watching him, he quickly schooled his features into a more subdued expression and had the good grace to appear slightly chagrined as he passed her at the doorway and stepped into Winthrop's room. The look she leveled at him was not lost on the music professor prompting Harold to lean in and quietly whisper a soft apology along with a promise to exercise more restraint. His earnest words seemed to ring true with Mrs. Paroo because she nodded once and allowed a hint of smile to peek through her stern façade. Relieved, Harold continued to Winthrop's bedside, grateful for escaping from the situation relatively unscathed and still remain in the elder woman's good graces.

Marian, who had missed the exchange, had already pulled the bedclothes back and watched with tender affection as Harold quietly moved to the bed and gently deposited her sleeping brother on top of the sheets. As she removed his boots and socks, she motioned for her beau to help the little boy out of his shirt. Harold's face registered startled shock for a brief moment, but at Marian's encouraging expression, he leaned down and slowly worked the shirt over Winthrop's head and then looked around, unsure as to where to deposit the clothing. The beaming smile Mrs. Paroo greeted him with couldn't have been more radiant. Taking the shirt from him, she retreated down the stairs toward the back porch and wash basket. Harold sported a perplexed look, still a bit amazed that he was being included in such a domestic moment. As he turned, he witnessed Marian pulling the covers up over her brother and leaning down to deposit a soft kiss against Winthrop's forehead after gently brushing his hair aside. The sudden onslaught of emotions that began to race through him caught him completely unawares.

He had teasingly alluded to Marian's future children earlier that day, knowing quite well that Marian would have no doubt as to what he was implying. Although the comment had been somewhat in jest, there had been a kernel of wishful thinking on his part; at the time, he had brushed it aside, telling himself he was thinking too far ahead and needed to concentrate on one thing at a time. But now, watching her tend to her brother with such ease and loving care, he realized that this glimpse of Marian's nurturing side cemented what had, up until now, been a wistful daydream on his part.

With a certainty he had rarely experienced in a life filled with ambiguity and unknowns, Harold knew that he wanted this scene to be replayed with their own children; maybe a little girl with honey-gold hair like her mother's, bright eyes teeming with intelligence and independence. Silently acknowledging a long hidden desire, he conceded that his heart would fill with pride to see her gently caressing the brow a boy with his own dark locks and quick wit tempered by his mother's generous and honest temperament. He turned away lest Marian see the undisguised longing he knew must be evident in his eyes, and inhaled a sharp breath before slowly letting it pass through his lips in a long sigh. Marian heard the soft sound and looked at him.

"Harold?"

"I'm fine," he assured her, not quite ready to divulge these particular thoughts to her, and then nodded at Winthrop and grinned. "He's out cold."

She laughed. "Yes, and I'll admit I'm somewhat jealous." As if on cue, a yawn escaped from her lips.

Harold chuckled and offered her his arm. "I'd better escort you downstairs and say goodbye before you fall asleep on me, too," he teased.

"Harold!" Marian chastised and swatted at his arm. She started toward the door, only to be pulled back as Harold's hand closed around her wrist and gently tugged her toward him. She surveyed him with a quizzical look.

"What is it?"

Harold opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again quickly when he realized he didn't quite know how to answer Marian. Instead, he reached down and linked his fingers through hers, stepping closer. When her honest gaze became too searching, he turned away and looked at Winthrop for a moment, before meeting Marian's eyes again.

"I want to thank you," he finally replied, an uncharacteristic meekness in his voice.

Marian seemed surprised. "Thank _me_? For what?"

"For allowing me the opportunity to be a part of this." He gestured at her and then at Winthrop. "I never had any siblings. Up until I met you, I didn't realize how much I truly envied those that did."

Marian's eyes softened in understanding, and she squeezed Harold's hands in a comforting gesture, touched that he had chosen to reveal another facet of his shuttered past to her. She gazed at him with evident affection. "We had a wonderful time today."

Harold returned her smile. "So did I."

"You know … Mama is quite fond of you, and Winthrop absolutely adores you," Marian informed him with a shy smile.

Harold nodded slowly. "That's comforting to know." Reaching up, he captured a stray tendril of hair that had fallen loose and tucked it behind her ear, allowing his fingers to tenderly trail along her cheek, until her chin rested softly between his thumb and finger. "But, what of a certain librarian? That's whose opinion matters most."

Marian responded to his heated gaze with a look of undisguised longing. "Harold," she whispered, "you know how I feel about you."

He flashed her that all-too familiar grin, but the passion in his eyes betrayed the humor in his voice. "Perhaps I simply want to hear you say it, Miss Marian."

"Harold …" Her eyes dropped, and he watched as a dull blush crept into her cheeks. He knew he oughtn't tease her, but she really was too enchanting to resist.

As he leaned in closer to steal a kiss from the delicious lips that seemed to beckon him, Winthrop shifted in his bed behind them. Marian quickly stepped away, her eyes darting over to the still-sleeping form of her younger brother and then back to Harold.

"We should return downstairs," Marian suggested, and not waiting for his response, quickly retreated through the doorway leaving Harold to trail behind her chuckling softly.

"That's cheating, Madam Librarian."

From her slight misstep, Harold knew she had heard him, and he allowed himself a satisfied smirk. When he reached the bottom of the stairwell, Marian stood waiting by the door, her poise once again evident, which forced Harold to acknowledge the slight disappointment that lanced through him. This new flirtatious facet of his lovely librarian was intriguing, not to mention deliciously tempting, and he had enjoyed every moment of their verbal sparring and heated exchanges. He was somewhat saddened to see Marian put an end to their teasing banter. The rational side of him knew she was only behaving as a proper young woman should, but he couldn't help but grin as he reflected upon her little moments of rebellion. He'd be lying if he said he didn't hope to see more of them.

When he reached Marian's side, she gave him a pointed look and in a low voice informed him, "I am not inclined to cheat, Professor Hill." She turned to the parlor and glanced at the corner where her mother sat knitting.

"Mama, I'm going to see Professor Hill out, and then I'll be back to help you unpack the basket." She didn't wait for her mother's response, instead opening the door and stepping through. Harold was a bit surprised at this, but followed her and a moment later, found himself and Marian standing on the darkened porch.

"I was merely teasing you about cheating, darling," Harold laughed and then looked up in amusement. "I think we're forgetting the light, Miss –"

His observation was cut short as Marian pressed against him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Taking advantage of his momentary, stunned silence, she placed a gentle kiss against his lips and then melted closer when Harold's arms immediately slid around her as he eagerly deepened their embrace.

When Harold eventually – albeit reluctantly – pulled away, Marian graced him with the coyest of smiles. "Do you still need to hear me say it, Professor Hill?"

Harold could only stare at her, too flabbergasted to speak. Her behavior throughout the day had been openly flirtatious, to say the least, but this kiss had taken him by complete surprise. He knew his wide-eyed amazement looked oddly out of place on him, and judging from Marian's expression, she was finding this role reversal quite amusing. Swallowing hard, he cleared his throat twice before finding the ability to speak again and still found it difficult to do so as Marian's nails gently trailed through the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

"Perhaps I should be the one to say it," Harold admitted and closed his eyes as emotion overcame him. Marian felt a shudder run through him and was startled to realize how deeply her touch was affecting him. Suddenly unsure of her new footing, she began to pull away, but Harold's arms tightened around her and held her securely against him.

"Don't," he whispered, bringing his mouth close to her ear. "You never have to be unsure around me." His lips trailed tender kisses along her cheek, but he resisted the temptation to give into anything more ardent. As he gazed into her eyes, he saw the uncertainty there fade away and decided it best to leave Marian while he still possessed the restraint to do so.

"I think it would be wise for me to say goodnight, Madam Librarian. You are far too tempting to remain in my arms," he admitted sheepishly. Taking a step back, he released her from their embrace and used the opportunity to collect his wits.

Wordlessly, she nodded. They stood that way for a few moments, each gazing at the other in contented silence. Finally, Marian moved toward the door, resting her hand on the knob.

"I imagine Mama will be out here with us soon if I don't return inside," she smiled.

Harold nodded. "You're right, of course." He made to move toward her for a goodnight kiss, but stopped when Marian raised a hand.

"Not one step closer, Harold Hill," she warned and then laughed. "I'll never make it inside if you do."

Harold chuckled at the bold, but accurate, assessment and retreated down the steps. "Fair enough, Miss Marian."

Gracing him with one last smile, she turned and slipped inside her home. Harold couldn't help but laugh when the light above the porch suddenly flicked into existence. Marian Paroo might be a proper young woman, but she could certainly be devious when she desired. Amused by that thought, he began to whistle a jaunty tune as he made his way down the path to the front gate and let himself out.


End file.
